


Dandelion

by soulkitchen



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love Declarations, Post Mockingjay, Pre mockingjay epilogue, fluff (sorta), not rlly angst or hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulkitchen/pseuds/soulkitchen
Summary: “My cautiousness is still prevalent after the shit show with Panem. Even though Coin and Snow are dead and gone, even though the games are gone, and the game makers are no more, even though I have no reason to look over my shoulder for the blinding sequins and eye straining neon hair of Caesar, even though I no longer need to watch for cameras, I’m still careful with what I say and who’s around to hear it.”
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Crumbs





	Dandelion

I’ve never been one to wear my heart on my sleeve, or be open about things that I didn’t think others needed to know about. I also have never been a tightly shut book, I let people know what they need to know, and as things go, I may reveal a few things if I feel safe enough letting them know. I’m cautious, if anything, and it shows; it especially manifests when I speak to Haymitch, or Effie, about anything personal that doesn’t necessarily pertain to matters at hand. 

Peeta on the other hand, he knows me more than I should myself. It’s strange how someone you go through hell and back with ends up like you in ways, whether it’s knowing how you act, or mimicking you. Thankfully for me, Peeta is the former. At least he picks up on my cues instead of mimics them. I’d hate to see myself in others.

My cautiousness is still prevalent after the shit show with Panem. Even though Coin and Snow are dead and gone, even though the games are gone, and the game makers are no more, even though I have no reason to look over my shoulder for the blinding sequins and eye straining neon hair of Caesar, even though I no longer need to watch for cameras, I’m still careful with what I say and who’s around to hear it.

I have Peeta, and that’s really all. Of course there’s others still alive, we aren’t the only souls around here, wandering the remains of the districts like ghosts in the night. But he is the only person who I trust with my words, even if it took time for him to recover, partially is being generous, from what the Capitol put him through. We do what we can, even if it means sometimes having to pull drastic measures to keep each other safe. Life isn’t easy, but Peeta and I manage with what we’re equipped with.

We live together, in the home outside the meadow that we built together. It took god knows how long, but I’ve never felt happier to see a home that didn’t run the risk of corrupt political figures that wanted me as their pawn. It’s small, with a kitchen, living room, 2 bedrooms, and bathroom, but it’s enough for the two of us. I sleep in a different room, but some way somehow, Peeta and I end up back to each other. 

I’m not sure what we are for a long while, for at least the first year or so. I know he loves me, or he did before the Capitol destroyed everything that Peeta was. He still does, he never said Not Real when I asked. On the other hand, I’m not so sure of how I feel. After years of the capitol playing with our relationship, forcing emotions upon me, I’ve never been absolutely sure of myself and my feelings towards Peeta. Although now that I’ve had the time to sit and think on it, let myself feel emotions that were, for once, not dictated by survival mode. I no longer had to survive to live.

It was difficult when I realized that, yes, I do love Peeta, in more ways than one. It’s not like I could easily waltz into a room Peeta was in and declare my love. This wasn’t a romance story thought up by Effie.

The night I managed to gather the energy up to tell him, though, I didn’t stop myself. It was something you couldn’t build up to, not something that a person could beat around the bush, maybe flirt a little. This wasn’t school love, or anything soft and fluffy. But it also wasn’t harsh, cold love. It was the cool air after a storm, before the sun reared its head to show that another day has come. So, the best thing to do was tell him. That was it. It wasn’t a huge ceremony, as some might believe, anyways.

Just like any other night, I entered his bedroom, and found myself on the edge of the bed nearest the entrance. This was my usual sitting place before I did one of two things: removed my aid and slipped beneath his blankets and into his arms, or push myself up and retreat to my bedroom, where I proceeded to do the same things alone. But that wasn’t why I was here.

He’s dozing off, but it’s evident he was waiting to go to bed for after I had told him goodnight. His prosthetic is off, and he’s curled up in bed, leaving a space open for me, not sure if I’m here for a stay or a simple two word farewell for the next eight hours.

I position myself towards Peeta, my hands sitting restlessly in my lap. My mouth opens, and I find myself speaking before I think. Thankfully, the only words uttered are “Peeta, can I tell you something?”

Peeta looks up, his eyes already lidded from fatigue. We’ve both had a very long day. I don’t blame him for looking ready to crash at a moment’s notice. A smile still graces his lips, though, and he answers me in the same love laced voice he always gives me. “Of course you can. You can tell me anything, Katniss,” Peeta replies.

For a moment time slows, and I have to stop myself. I’m not scared, no, I know what I’m doing. This doesn’t scare me at all. It’s just Peeta, and although there’s been changes, he still loves me.

I lean over and take his hand into mine, my thumb stroking small circles into the back of his palm. His are bigger, but softer, than mine are. They’re strong and loving hands that are incapable of harm, at least when he isn’t under capitol influence. But that’s not what I’m focused on. I focus on the good and bad, but never on the moments that hurt to think of.

“I love you,” I tell him, with all the love I can muster up to the conscious world. I’ve never said it to him before, at least not with actual intent and purpose.

In response to my declaration, Peeta leans over and presses a kiss to my lips. Warmth spreads all over my face, and the feeling of calmness washes away the worst of the nervousness. After a moment, we separate from each other, and I know that we’re on similar, if not the same, level of thinking at the moment. His free hand cradles my cheek.

Peeta looks into my eyes lovingly, and responds with the same way he has for years. “I love you, too, Katniss.”


End file.
